Of Pompoms and Cigarettes
by WhatWasOnceSilver
Summary: Daltonverse. AU badboy!Logan and cheerleader!Julian!Jogan


**Title:** Of Pompoms and Cigarettes

**Author:** Margaret/WhatWasOnceSilver/whatwasoncesilver

**Rating:** M

**Word Count:** 20,074

**Pairing:** Julian Larson and Logan Wright from CP Coulter's _Dalton_

**Summary:** Daltonverse. AU badboy!Logan and cheerleader!Julian!Jogan

**Warnings:** Slash, alternative universe, heavy swearing, sexual conversation, graphic sex, underage drinking, sexual promiscuity, infidelity, minors having sex, does it count as statutory rape if the younger person lies about their age and then gives their full consent?

**Dedicated to (and prompted by):** Lara

**Author's Note:** This was written for Lara's birthday, which was about a million and two years ago. In my defense, she only told me it was her birthday the day after, so I have an excuse.

Also, random use of All Time Low and OneRepublic lyrics!

* * *

This is how it goes.

They're born in the same hospital, a few months apart. At an age that's too tender, one is taken home and placed in the arms of a nanny. The other is left in a sagging playpen on the floor while Mama makes phone calls, trying to scrape together enough money to make ends meet now that Daddy is gone. They meet when they're six.

Logan is sitting on the classroom floor, dabbing his short fingers into green paint, and a little brunet dawdles up to him, looking over his shoulder curiously.

"Watcha makin'?" he asks innocently.

Logan looks over his shoulder and frowns, unused to other kids coming up to him. "Stars," he answers cautiously.

"Cool!" The little brunet plops himself down next to Logan and looks over the papers on the wooden table, little hands pawing through the supplies eagerly. "Can I help?"

Logan's mouth twists up at a corner as though he's thinking about it, and then he shrugs. "I guess so," he says, and goes back to where he's been trying to put a smiley face in the center of a five-pointed star. The area isn't big enough and the paint keeps smudging. He frowns, frustrated.

"Awesome! Thanks!" The kid pulls a large pink sheet toward him and starts happily drawing with a crayon.

Logan peeks over his shoulder. The brunet started to draw a house, but became distracted almost immediately. He's now fashioning a wolf-poodle hybrid with two legs and a stubby tail in the corner.

Logan frowns again. "You're supposed to be painting. With paint."

The brunet pauses, black crayon in hand, and looks up at him with wide eyes. "Really? Why?"

"Because _I'm_ painting with paint," Logan replies factually, nodding. His companion blinks at him as he searches through the thick pile of cardboard paper. Eventually, he comes up with a large white sheet, slightly thinner than the rest, and slides it on top of his acquaintance's crayon masterpiece.

"Here. Use this."

The little brunet peers down at the sheet as though it's foreign. "What do you want me to do with this?"

"Paint on it," Logan says, a little impatient, and shoves a vat of thick purple goo toward him.

The brunet stares at the paint as though it's offended him. "How am I supposed to use this?"

"Use your hands." Logan dips his finger in the green paint helpfully, and, to demonstrate, dabs a long line of paint up the side of the brunet's paper. The boy blinks.

"Why are you drawing on my sheet?"

"I'm not drawing. I'm painting."

Logan's companion thinks he has a bit of a strange attachment to paint.

"Why are you _painting_ on my sheet?"

"Well _you're_ not painting on it."

"I don't know how."

"I _told_ you. Use your fingers."

The kid frowns. "I'm not going to use my fingers."

Logan's forehead furrows. "Why not? Are you a princess?"

The boy looks taken aback. "I don't think so."

"Too bad," Logan says. "I'm calling you Princess."

"Okay," says the kid. "My name is Julian, though."

"Okay. My name is Logan," says Logan, and goes back to his sheet, trying to wedge a little yellow heart into the bottom right-hand corner of the page. It ends up an incoherent blob.

"Can I help?" Julian asks.

Logan blinks at him. "Huh?"

Julian reaches over and paints a large purple heart slap-dab in the middle of the page, right over two of Logan's stars. He leans back and smiles, and Logan thinks it's one of the more beautiful things he's ever seen.

"Thanks," Logan says gratefully. "It's pretty."

Julian nods, and starts working on a gigantic orange triceratops.

…

Logan and Julian go to second grade together. Julian's backpack has Power Rangers on it and Logan's is dark blue. Julian is nervous because he's heard that in second grade everyone makes fun of you if you don't know what eleven times eleven is, and he doesn't know what eleven times eleven is.

The first time he reaches to hold Logan's hand Logan frowns and looks down at where he's intertwined their fingers. "Why are you doing that?" he asks.

"My mommy said if you like someone you can hold their hand and it makes you feel better," Julian responds, looking around anxiously.

"Oh." Logan thinks that over and decides it makes sense. "Okay." He tugs Julian into the classroom, sits him down in a chair, and spends the next five minutes telling Dave that eleven times eleven does not equal 122, and if he can't multiply correctly he shouldn't be mocking other people for not knowing things they're not even supposed to learn until next year.

…

In the first week of the summer after second grade Julian declares he's going to learn the tuba and Logan declares he's going to take up fencing. In the second week of summer Julian has declared he's never touching a tuba again and Logan has started fencing lessons.

In the summer after third grade Julian decides he's going to be a ballet dancer, and Logan is still fencing.

In the summer after fourth grade Logan spends half his time fencing and the other half convincing Julian that sitting on the corner of a street in India is not a viable career option, even if he really really does want to travel.

The summer after fifth grade finds Logan still fencing and Julian adamantly protesting that "Segway polo _is_ a real sport, Mom, you just have to give it a chance!"

In the summer after sixth grade Logan undergoes a growth spurt and starts noticing things about Julian, like the way his arms aren't so skinny anymore, and the way his eyelashes are really long, and the way his lips look really, really good. That's also the summer Julian's grades secure him a place in the Gifted and Talented program of a private school some miles away.

Logan is so downcast in the weeks leading up to seventh grade it's almost funny. When they're standing at the train station and Julian laughs at him, Logan pouts and says, "It's not _funny_, Jules."

Julian brings a hand up to cover his mouth and giggles. "I think it's funny."

Logan scowls. "Are you going to say goodbye or not?"

Julian drops his hand. "C'mere. I'm want to give you a hug."

Logan scowls but goes, and Julian rubs his back comfortingly. When they pull apart he darts up on his tiptoes to plant a kiss on Logan's forehead.

"We'll still be friends, right Logan?"

Logan tugs on the lapels of his ridiculous private-school outfit. Julian, the little diva that he is, has insisted on wearing it even though school doesn't begin until next Wednesday.

"Right, Princess."

Logan stands alone on the platform and waves as Julian plasters his forehead to the window, grins excitedly, and gives the blond an absent goodbye.

And because his mother had to pick up an extra shift to help replace the foil he broke, Logan makes his way home by himself and collapses onto his bed.

He doesn't cry himself to sleep, no matter what anyone says.

* * *

…

* * *

Julian glances down at his map and back up at the scene around him, frowning. Someone knocks into him from behind and he staggers, whipping around as though caught between apologizing and asking what just happened, but there's no one for him to talk to. He straightens and tugs his messenger bag higher onto his shoulder.

The elementary and middle schools are nowhere near the high school, and he never got the chance to look in at the big kids when he was younger. Consequently, he has no idea where he is.

"Hey, man. You lost?"

Julian turns around to see a jock in front of him, one thumb hooked into a belt loop, grinning as he chews his gum. He raises an eyebrow when he sees Julian, and his grin widens.

"Yeah," Julian says coolly. "I have English with Ms. Kratsby in E202. You know where that is?"

"Sure, I'll take you there. I'm in that class too."

As they turn to start walking, a sharp gust of wind blows across Julian's head and shoulders, and he shivers.

"You're cold," the jock says. "Here."

He tosses his jacket in Julian's direction and the brunet catches it deftly, frowning when he turns it over to see the number-name combination on the back. "David Karofsky?"

David glances at him, surprised and cheeky, and snaps his gum. "You've heard of me?"

Julian slings the jacket over his shoulders. He's not exactly sure what the implications of that action are, but it seems like this boy's got major swag at this school. The first couple of weeks for a new student are make or break, and if an opportunity to boost his popularity so easily presents itself, well…

"Yeah, I'm Julian Larson. We went to elementary school together."

David raises his eyebrows. "Oh yeah, Larson. You hung out with Wright, didn't you?" The words provoke a prickling in Julian's chest.

He's wanted to contact Logan since he got back, but he doesn't know his personal email and using his school one seems a bit weird. He doesn't remember his number from when they were kids either.

They were best friends, sure, but kids aren't great at keeping contact. It was especially difficult for them since texting and email and all that junk weren't really big when they were young. It's not like there's any hostility or hurt on either side, they just sort of…grew apart.

But now, Julian kind of wants him back.

He clears his throat.

"Yeah," he says in answer to David's question. "Is he still here?"

"Sure. You'll probably see him around. He's captain of the fencing team." He switches tracks. "So you left after, what, fifth grade?"

"Sixth. My mom wanted me to go to some ridiculous prep school." That's the way to go, right? Be condescending. Private schools are for snobs. Public schools are much cooler. Yeah.

It works, if David's snort is anything to go by. "And now you're back for junior year? What's up with that?"

"My mom got a job."

David nods. "Got it." There's a slightly awkward pause as they walk across the courtyard to the English building.

"So!"

David eyes Julian at his exclamation, gaze flickering down his body before settling back on his eyes.

"You're a varsity guy?"

David smiles. "Football. Linebacker."

"Nice."

Julian doesn't know what a linebacker is, but does it really matter?

"What about you?" David asks. "Going for any sports?" He starts walking backward, thumbs hooked in his belt loops as he looks at Julian. It's probably supposed to look cool, the way he can walk backward and not fall over. Given that everyone makes a point of staying out of his way, it is kind of effective.

"I was thinking about trying for cheerleading," Julian says after a moment's hesitation. He saw the fliers saying they took all genders, but he wasn't sure if this was one of these schools that thought it was cool or sissy for a guy to be a cheerleader. But with the way this guy is so blatantly checking him out, he's probably not too concerned about other people knowing he's into dudes. And for a varsity jock to not care about something like that in a public school – well, that has to mean a guy doing cheerleading is at least sort of okay, right?

By the way David's eyes widen Julian figures that not only is he okay with it, but the cheerleading team must give their members some pretty well-fitting outfits.

Either that or he's imagining the flexibility cheerleading requires – something Julian is positive he won't disappoint on.

He manages not to smirk.

"Yeah," David chokes out roughly. Julian's attempts not to simper become more difficult. "Yeah," he continues, "I think that's a thing you should do."

"Awesome," says Julian. They've reached the classroom now and Julian turns, hand tightening on David's jacket to make clear he's not letting it go any time soon. By the way David's eyes flicker down to his fingers, Julian figures he's more than okay with it.

"Thanks for the support. Maybe I'll see you at tryouts?" He flashes his dazzlingly white movie star grin and executes the quickest of winks, finally letting himself smile as he moves toward a desk on the right side of the classroom, making no effort to tame the somewhat natural sway of his hips.

As he spreads his writing materials over the desk, he can't help but let his grin widen when he hears the jock throw himself into the chair behind him.

…

He tries out for cheerleading and makes it. David shows up to watch.

It's only afterward when he's being congratulated by some of the guys and eyed by all the girls that Julian notices him, hanging near the bleachers with a few friends.

When the hustle bustle of tryouts has died down a bit, he turns and starts sauntering toward the athletes purposefully. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees some of the boys straighten and cast David glances that very well could be envious.

Julian grabs David's letterman jacket from where he'd tossed it over his bag for safekeeping before the tryout, throws it over his shoulder, and smirks.

"So," says David when Julian stops in front of him.

"So," says Julian. He sees the rest of the jocks melt back a little, farther away but still very present, eyes trained and intense, not about to miss this confrontation.

David's gaze is keen and, when he speaks, his voice is low. It sends warmth through Julian's stomach, though he's not sure if it's arousal or simply the pleasure of being wanted.

"I watched you out there."

Julian's grin grows teasing. "I noticed. Like what you saw?"

David's gaze drops to his mouth. "I really, really did."

Julian fashions his lips into a little pout and David glances back up at his eyes, searching for its cause. "I guess I should give your jacket back, then," Julian says, affectedly mournful.

David waves. "Keep it. It looks good on you."

Julian's smile is coy when he looks up at the jock through his lashes. "I'd just love to, but wouldn't that give people the wrong idea? About…us?" His finger runs down David's chest lightly, teasingly, and the jock growls, grabbing his hips and tugging him so that they're suddenly sharing personal space.

"And what if it did?"

"Are you suggesting we'd make a good couple?"

David growls again and moves forward, pressing their lips together in a hard kiss.

Julian supposes that's his answer.

…

It's been a week and a half, and he still hasn't seen Logan.

Not that he cares, or anything.

…

Okay, maybe he cares a little.

They were best friends, okay? He hasn't seen the guy for four years. He misses him.

And…okay, maybe he's a little anxious too. He just wants to make sure Logan isn't mad at him for not making more of an effort to keep in touch. For some reason, the big oaf's stupid opinion still matters to him, and…well, it would be great if they could get some of that friendship back.

It's not like he stopped caring about Logan the second he went away. It's just…middle school is hard for everyone, and he just wanted to fit in. Keeping up with Logan wasn't really a priority. Maybe it should have been, but that's just how it went.

Now, he can't help but get more and more apprehensive each day he doesn't see the stupid blond. Surely Logan _knows_ he's back. Yeah, it's not like he put it in skywriting for everyone to see, but – he's dating one of the most popular guys around. Even in a school as large as this one, that's got to spread quickly, right?

Does Logan not _want_ to see him?

The brunet is staring at his hamburger moodily when David plunks his tray down next to him and drapes a heavy arm over his shoulder, taking a voracious bite of his own burger before he glances up and notices Julian's expression.

"Hey, what's up?"

Julian glances at him. "You remember when we talked about Logan?"

David wipes his mouth with a napkin. "Wright? Yeah. What about him?"

Julian shrugs. "We used to be friends, and I thought it might be kind of cool to see him again."

David chews and makes a thoughtful expression.

Julian's heart manages a little fondness. David doesn't have to think about this; he could just stare and ask why he even cares, but he doesn't. He's thinking about it for Julian, and that's really sweet.

David finally clears his throat and leans back, thumb rubbing against Julian's neck absently. "'M not really sure what he does during lunch," he muses. His thoughtful expression stays in place for a few seconds before he shrugs and picks up his burger again. "I'd try to find him for you, but I don't think we're in any of the same classes."

Julian gives an affectionate half-smile. "Doesn't really matter, I guess. I'm sure I'll see him around."

"'Course you will." David turns to the other jocks and changes the subject to football.

…

When it happens, it's an accident – they just bump into each other. It's a shock. Or at least it is for Julian, because he's not expecting…

Well.

_Him._

The brunet is showing off for some of his cheerleading friends, smirking and grinning as they shove each other affectionately, laughing somewhat boisterously.

They've just stepped onto a large outside platform that lies between two flights of stairs. One of Julian's movements is a bit off-kilter, and when his elbow moves back, it bumps into someone who gives a little automatic yelp. He turns around to apologize, but doesn't have the opportunity to say anything before he accidentally looks up and chokes.

"_Logan?_"

Logan's leaning against the metal railing with two friends, glancing somewhat amusedly as the band member Julian bumped into picks up his music with an unfazed "S'all right, man" and jogs down the stairs. The blond's got a cigarette in one hand, and when he looks up at the sound of his name, his eyes are devastating.

They're just so – _green_.

They're more green than Julian remembered, and they send shivers through him in all the right places. All the places he knows they really _shouldn't_, given that he has a boyfriend.

While the brunet is making this observation (probably gaping in the process), Logan brings the cigarette up to his mouth and considers the brunet analytically.

Julian almost didn't recognize him at first.

He's wearing black jeans and a dark blue shirt that intensifies his eyes that much more. It's rolled up above his elbows, showing muscle definition Julian doesn't even want to _think_ about. His hair isn't short, exactly, but it's not as long as it was when they were kids. Somewhere along the line he must have been blessed by the gods, because there's no way he's under six-two, and he's got cheekbones that would make Johnny Depp himself weep with envy.

In short, he looks very much like something Julian would like to touch.

Repeatedly.

With his tongue.

Logan removes the cigarette from between his lips and exhales a stream of smoke as he watches Julian's enormous eyes. Then, with a smirk, he lets the bud drop to the ground and grinds it into the cement floor with the toe of his boot.

"Welcome back, Princess."

.

David shows up then and ushers Julian to class, not noticing the impish smile the blond wears as his eyes trail after them.

Julian spends the rest of the day in a semi-daze, pencil tapping too rapidly against his calculus notebook until David frowns and puts his hand on Julian's to stop it. When the final bell rings he grabs his materials and bolts, barely stopping to ask David breathlessly for directions to wherever it is the fencing team practices. He doesn't notice his boyfriend's little frown as he darts away after having received them.

The fencing team doesn't meet that day, but Logan must have had free period last, because he's there nonetheless. Julian makes his way over to where Logan is putting his materials away and leans against the fence.

"Hey, Blondie!"

Logan turns at the call, one eyebrow raised as he slings his bag over his shoulder. When he sees Julian he smiles crookedly and saunters forward.

"Long time no see, buddy."

Julian grins. "Yeah, something like that. Listen, sorry for the lack of communication. I was busy with, uh, y'know. Private school stuff."

Logan's lips twitch. "Totally understandable."

Julian smiles, and realizes it's the only genuine one he's given since he got here.

"So," he says at last, dragging the word out. "You wanna hang out?"

Logan's smile is little and secretive, like he knows something Julian doesn't. "I assume you're acquainted with the football field?"

.

They end up halfway across campus, watching the varsity softball team as it trains for its first big game.

"So are we, like, gonna be friends again?"

Logan takes a drag of his cigarette before resting his elbows on the railing of the chain-link fence, maintaining a few inches between them. He glances over at Julian skeptically.

"You want to be friends with me?"

Julian frowns. "Why not?"

Logan takes another drag and looks Julian up and down – not as though he's checking him out, but as though he's incredulous.

"You want to be friends with the guy people call a bad boy."

Julian lets out a sort of snort-scoff hybrid. "A _bad boy? _ Excuse me, are we in sixth grade again?"

Logan looks unimpressed. "I don't decide what to call things."

Julian leans back, arms crossed over his chest as he tries for Logan's nonchalance. "Enlighten me, then. What is this list of attributes you possess that makes you worthy of possessing the oh-so-sacred title of 'bad boy'?"

Logan gives him an unamused look before leaning back and sighing, taking a short drag of his cigarette before he exhales.

"Black boots. Dark clothing. Cigarettes. Unashamed of his sexuality and sexual conduct. Wears leather in uncompromising abundance, has no reservations about the use of profanity, rides a motorcycle – "

Julian glances up at him in surprise. "You have a motorcycle?" And wow, was that his _dick _he just felt twitch there?

He hadn't even known he was _into_ that.

Logan lifts an eyebrow. "Why, are you into that?"

Julian feels himself blush at an alarming rate. "No!"

The exclamation is too loud and too quick, and the way Logan hasn't ceased the annoying arrangement of his mouth says he's not fooled.

"No," Julian says again, attempting composure. It doesn't help that Logan won't stop looking so smug. "I was just surprised, that's all."

Logan takes another drag. "Why? Is it so strange for you to visualize?"

Julian swallows.

_Oh, it's not hard for me to _visualize_. You in leather, gripping the handlebars of a motorbike? That's not the problem at _all_, honey._

"Yeah," Julian manages with a breathy laugh. "Yeah, it's just a little – weird. I mean, the last time we saw each other we were twelve, you know?"

Logan's expression turns serious. "Yeah. I know."

Julian's eyes can't help but drop to his lips. They're parted only the teensy-tiniest bit in the middle, fuller than he'd remembered – and wow, how has he not been thinking about Logan's mouth since they reconnected? In fact, how has he not been thinking about it every night since they met?

A strange feeling starts to creep up on him, totally unwelcome, prodding and poking at his stomach, wondering what it would be like to kiss those lips. And it's ridiculous, it's downright crazy, because he has a _boyfriend_, God damn it, a popular jock boyfriend. Kissing Logan would just be social _suicide_, and yet –

And yet he feels himself leaning forward.

The progress is slow, and he knows that if he doesn't stop soon he'll just end up _falling_ onto Logan's mouth.

The most insane scenario crops up in his mind, the image of him standing there, astounded and demure, protesting, "I don't know what happened, David, I really don't – his lips were just _there_, and all of a sudden I collapsed on top of them!"

Breaking around this insane image (and seriously, could his mind _be_ any more unhelpful right now?) is the dawning horror that accompanies his strange descent forward. Because he doesn't want to do this, but he can't stop, he can't he can't he _can't_ –

"I guess we'll just have to hang out more so you can get to think of me as the kind of guy who rides a motorcycle, huh?"

With a start, Julian realizes he's moved less than an inch forward, and has to blink profusely to clear his head. Logan is looking at him with an expression that says absolutely nothing.

Either that or he's confused. Julian honestly has no idea at this point.

"Yeah," the brunet says in turn, mentally shaking his head (how does that even work?). "Uh, yeah. Sure. Sounds good."

Logan smiles. "Great." He grinds his cigarette into the dirt and grabs his jacket from where it had been lying innocently on the fence, pulling it on and folding the collar down as he starts to walk backward (which is apparently just a thing people do at this school). "Maybe you'll have learned how to make decent conversation by then."

Julian snaps back into reality just in time to see Logan turn around and begin to walk forward (like a _fucking_ _normal human being_).

"Screw you and the horse you rode in on!" Julian tries, attempting a laugh. It sounds wrong in his mouth, but Logan just turns his head and simpers. Julian watches him until he disappears, and then collapses against the fence.

That was interesting.

* * *

Logan is not uncool.

Julian observes this through…observation.

He's even sort of cool, just not in the same way the jocks and cheerleaders are. Logan just doesn't – _care_, and Logan doesn't try.

Jocks will come up to him occasionally and talk to him about anything from homework to the fencing team's latest victory. He'll accept their conversation easily, but he won't put out his cigarette or suck up. And he doesn't go looking for them: doesn't go looking for anyone, really, not even his own friends.

Julian hears that a group of freshmen once spray-painted his bike hot pink in some misguided attempt to climb the social hierarchy. According to the people who were present, Logan didn't even glance at the paintjob as he got on the bike and drove away. The next day he'd exchanged his regular gloves for black ones with hot pink streaks in the middle in order to better coordinate. The football team eventually got hold of some black paint and sprayed it back for him.

Basically, Logan doesn't fit stereotypes. He doesn't have any piercings; he hasn't dyed his hair and he doesn't wear any jewelry. He doesn't have any tattoos (that Julian can see, and oh – that was really not something he needed to be thinking about in the middle of math class. Now they're focusing on Leibniz and he has a boner and the guy next to him is scooting away nervously. Fantastic).

Logan's just so _frustrating_. And – confusing.

Like so many teenagers, Julian relies on the concept that high school is a cast system with clean labels and no room to blur the edges. He's always known _exactly_ where he stood: he knows that right now he's at the top of the mountain, and he's constantly terrified of falling from that peak.

He loves being a cheerleader – loves the flips and adrenaline, loves the guys and the way they'll tease him good-naturedly instead of mocking him when he messes up.

He loves that he has a boyfriend who, though he looks like the stereotypical dumb jock, is actually pretty sweet and considerate. Sure, he can be a little thick at times, but not everyone can be Einstein. The important thing is that he respects Julian's boundaries, is not afraid of PDA, and always makes sure Julian is never cold.

And – okay, maybe Julian doesn't _crave_ having sex in the back of his car, but…it's sex. What's not to like?

Orgasms. Orgasms are what he likes.

Very much. Orgasms are awesome. And this, in short, is why he's glad to be at the top of the heap with a popular boy who can give them to him.

Right.

But…at the end of the day (or in the middle of math class), this is what confuses Julian so much. He wishes he could just – grab Logan and force him into a box. Which, yeah, viewing that superficially makes it seems totally cruel and minimalist, but English is a noun-based language, and everyone needs a noun or at least an adjective so their fellow human beings can understand them.

And that's just it. Everyone is still human, no matter what their label. It's not like these titles are – _demeaning_, or anything.

Right.

Exactly.

So why does Logan have to make everything so damn _difficult?_

…

They're surrounded by fake grass, staring up at the clouds. Occasionally Logan will point at one that looks like a bunny or a mug of hot chocolate ("How do you know it's hot chocolate _specifically_? All you can see is a shape that vaguely resembles a jug!" "Creative license, Julian. Didn't anyone ever teach you there's more than meets the eye?" "Okay, yeah, sure. Try getting far in life with _that_ principle") and Julian will giggle, completely free.

"So," says the brunet.

Logan turns his head so he can see Julian lying next to him. His lips, Julian notices, are curved up into a little smile.

"I'm still having trouble picturing you as the kind of guy who has a motorcycle."

Logan raises his eyebrows. "I ride it to school every day."

"That doesn't help if I don't see it, does it?" Julian waggles his eyebrows.

Logan gives him a friendly scoff, turning so that every part of him faces the sky again. He brings his hands behind his head and closes his eyes, looking so relaxed Julian has to stop himself from staring.

"'S not my fault you don't see me before school."

"Yeah, sorry if I'm not at the peak of my awareness at 7:45 in the morning."

"Well you'll just have to come see me some other time I have it, won't you?"

Julian props himself up on an elbow, head in hand, so that he's lying on his side. "Okay, but I just think that…well, even if I _did_ see it I don't think you and a motorcycle would fit. I mean, even with the way you look."

Logan opens one eye and peers at Julian with it. The result is kind of creepy. "The way I look?"

"The way you look _now_."

"Excuse me, the way I look _now?_ Are you implying that I was ever less than perfectly perfect?"

Julian snorts. "No."

"Your words imply otherwise."

Julian rolls his eyes. "I always knew you were on the better side of average-looking."

"Wow. Coming from you, that's like the gold medal of compliments. Give me the date and time. I need to write this down."

"Shut up."

"No, seriously. You never thought I was _ugly_, did you?"

"Yeah, but I didn't expect you to become _hot_."

"Wow, Jules, thanks."

"You know what I – ugh, okay, I didn't expect you to become _smoking_. Yeah, good-looking, but – have you looked at a mirror recently, Logan?"

Logan just smirks and, so abruptly it makes Julian's head hurt, changes the subject. "So. You have a boyfriend."

"Yeah," the brunet replies. "Why, are you jealous?"

"Yes."

Julian blinks. "Well _you've_ certainly grown no less blunt."

Logan's mouth curves up.

Julian's mouth twists into a smile. "You're cute too, you know," he says, trailing a finger down Logan's chest.

"Again with the gold medal giving."

Julian rolls his eyes. "I'm sorry, did you want me to sing your praises to the seraphim?"

"Nah, you don't need to flatter me, even though I'm perfectly deserving. I already like you."

"Why, because I'm hot?" The brunet folds his hands behind his head, elbows spread out, perfectly confident.

"No. Because you're you."

Julian blinks. "That's pathetically cheesy."

Logan shrugs. "And that's substituting mockery for insecurity."

Julian needs to take a moment before he makes his retort. "Doesn't seem to make you like me any less."

The fact that the smile Julian gets is affectionate rather than annoyed scares him more than he'd like to admit.

"Does Karofsky know you hang out with me?" Logan asks suddenly, and Julian frowns.

"His name is David."

Logan doesn't say anything.

"And I don't know. I don't think I've ever mentioned it explicitly – but then again, why I should I?"

Logan doesn't say anything, and Julian rolls onto his back and folds his hands across his stomach.

"He might've heard about it from someone who saw us talking or something, but so what? That's all we're doing, after all. Talking."

Logan doesn't respond. Julian's almost asleep when he gets up and leaves.

…

Logan does not like Dave Karofsky.

He doesn't like Karofsky, and it's probably only because he's Julian's boyfriend. And that makes him upset, because when exactly did he become such a shitty person? Karofsky can be a dick sometimes, but he's really just as vulnerable as everyone else, and from what Logan can see, he treats Julian right.

But it's hard to remember that when Julian shows up to third-period geography with hickeys all over his neck.

Or now, for instance – it's very difficult to remember that Karofsky is actually a pretty good guy when Julian is grinning and swinging his arms around Logan's neck, fingers interlacing.

Logan parts his lips, removes his cigarette, and raises an eyebrow. "You do realize anyone could come around that corner at any time."

Julian's grin widens and he shrugs.

"Do you even care?" Logan asks, slightly incredulous.

"About David? No."

"No. About him finding out."

Julian just looks down at Logan's shirt, pushing the fabric around with his finger for a bit. Then he smiles. "We haven't even kissed, sweetheart. He can't get mad at me for having friends."

"He can get mad at you for flirting."

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him. It's harmless, anyway."

Logan frowns. "You should let me kiss you."

Julian smiles. "What was that about him finding out about us, now?"

"You should break up with him and kiss me," Logan clarifies.

Julian puts on a pout. "You know I can't do that."

"Well can you stop hanging around me like a sloth then and go to your history class?"

Julian sticks his tongue out and breaks away to skip to class. Logan ignores the way he wants to run up to him and chase his tongue into his own mouth. Instead, he slams his cigarette dead under his boot and doesn't get angry.

For the first time, Julian doesn't dread learning about the horrors of the trenches in World War I while walking to History. Instead, he thinks about Logan.

When he's with Logan, nothing else seems important.

And that's not the way it should be.

…

"Hey, Wright! What's up, man?"

As Julian approaches, sweaty from the field, he sees Logan fist-bump some guy amiably and watch as he jogs away, green binder and red textbook trapped between his arm and side.

Logan is leaning against the fence watching the cheerleaders practice, eating yoghurt with a slender metal spoon. His eyes follow Julian as the performer jogs up to him and collapses against the fence, grinning. Julian is about to speak when he notices what Logan is doing.

"Um. What are you eating?"

Logan raises an eyebrow. "Do you want a scientific explanation, or – ?"

Julian sticks his tongue out. "I _meant_, why are you eating yoghurt with dancing bears on it?"

Logan looks at him in a way that conveys simultaneous amusement and you're-an-idiotness. "It tastes better."

"What, the bears make it taste better?"

"The bears are irrelevant. The brand tastes better."

"O…kay. Okay, whatever. Listen, the guys are playing next week. You should come."

Logan stares at him blankly.

"Football, Logan."

Logan frowns. "Will you be there? With the cheerleaders?"

Julian rolls his eyes. "Duh."

Logan's eyes trail up and down his body before he answers.

"All right, then."

…

Logan threads his fingers through the gaps in the wire fence and lets the tips rest against the cool metal. From the sound of it, the stands haven't begun to clear even though the game is over.

A red-and-white figure jogs over, and Logan lets the corner of his lips rise. Julian leans against the other side of the fence casually, running the tip of one finger over Logan's knuckles before simpering.

"So. How'd you like the game, big boy?"

Logan scoffs. "Please. As if I actually stayed to see how it turned out."

Julian's grin widens. "I bet you came to see me at halftime."

Logan's eyes darken just a bit. "Yeah. You I watched."

Julian runs his tongue across his teeth and smirks, fingers tangling in the fence on either side of Logan's hands as he leans in. "We're getting pretty good, don't you think? The freshmen are really starting to get the hang of all those backflips."

Logan looks at him with incredulity. "Sure, let's go with that. It's the _freshmen_ I was watching."

Julian tilts his head to the side and smiles charmingly, making no objection whatsoever to the way Logan's eyes are running all across his body. As his gaze hones in on the muscles of the cheerleader's stomach and slides progressively lower he licks his lips and looks up just in time to see Julian staring at them.

"Like what you see, _big boy_?" he teases, and Julian flushes.

"Shut up."

"If only you'd make me."

Julian rolls his eyes. "Please. Like you're getting with this any time soon," he replies with a superior air, gesturing to his (admittedly gorgeous) body.

Logan raises his eyebrows, leaning against the fence more heavily. "Sure, you're cocky now, but do you honestly expect me to believe it's your _boyfriend_ you're thinking about when you jerk off?"

Julian's gaze falls to Logan's lips again and he shifts, but doesn't remove his fingers from the fence.

"How is he in bed, Julian?" Logan inquires conversationally, innocent curiosity coloring his tone as if he genuinely just wants to know. "How often do you let him fuck you into the mattress?"

Julian blushes rapidly, seemingly incapable of dragging his eyes up to Logan's from where they're currently stuck on his mouth. "None of your business," he mutters.

Logan shrugs. "Hey, just curious, man. Having a healthy sex life is important for a teenager, don't you think?"

"Yeah," Julian answers absently, tracking the movements of Logan's throat.

Logan barks out a laugh that makes Julian glance up with a frown, slightly annoyed.

"God, you don't even care, do you?" Logan grins, enjoying the way Julian's brow and frown tighten in confusion. "You'll eyefuck me to your little heart's content, but at the end of the day you'll always go back to that dumb jock boyfriend of yours. And it's all for some fucked-up idea that you need him to stay at the top of the social heap, isn't it, sweetheart?"

Julian opens his mouth, but before he can say anything Logan continues.

"And don't tell me it's because the sex is good, hon. Because I've seen the guy's handshake, and there's no way you're gonna make me believe he isn't compensating for something."

Julian flushes and his mouth snaps shut. Logan takes immense satisfaction in noting that he doesn't deny anything. He leans forward.

"So I've been thinking about how you'd look laid out under me, all pretty and pink and naked," he informs the cheerleader casually, and feels a stirring in his stomach when Julian's irises contract and his cheeks flush against his will. His jaw drops open until he's just staring at Logan like a fish.

A fish Logan wants to pound into the wall.

Wow, that's a slightly problematic simile. Moving on.

"You'd be gorgeous like that, wouldn't you?" Logan purrs, tracking Julian's gaze as it flickers helplessly between the blond's eyes and lips. "I could promise you _so many things_," he continues. "So many things he couldn't. I'd promise to make you fall apart so much faster than he ever could, but honestly, Princess? I want to take my time with you."

Julian swallows and pulls away, fingers trembling against the fence as though he knows he should leave but can't quite force himself away.

"I'd make you writhe," Logan informs him factually. "I'd have you moaning and screaming and begging like a bitch. I'd force you to fuck yourself open on your fingers for me, watch you sob and fall apart because I wouldn't let you come. I'd drive you crazy without even _touching_ you."

Julian's swallow is harsh. "Shit," he manages weakly. "Stop that."

But his eyes are just begging Logan to go on, and Logan does.

"You don't even know how good I'd make you feel. Shit, I'd _worship_ you, Jules, if you'd just _let_ me."

Julian blinks rapidly. "I'm with David," he tries, voice faint.

Logan growls. "Yeah? I bet I could fuck his name right out of your throat. I bet I could fuck you until all you could do is scream my name, over and over and over again. And I wouldn't even stop there. I'd fuck you senseless, fuck you until you black out, fuck you raw. And you know what, Princess? You'd _love_ it. You'd moan like a slut, and even though you'd be sobbing with sensitization and pleasure you'd still be pushing back, wanting more. And I would _give it to you_."

"Christ, Logan – _stop_."

And Logan does, just for a moment, eyes dark as he takes in Julian's trembling body. He already looks debauched, flustered and weak and utterly helpless, and he's so hard Logan thinks even the slightest touch would set him off.

"Do you think about me, Julian? When he's got you on your knees and he's moaning and cursing like a tool, do you think about me?"

Julian swallows and avoids his eyes.

"Do you think about me when he fucks you into the mattress? My voice, my mouth? Do you lock yourself alone in your room after he's done with you and think about me when you touch yourself?"

Julian's breath hitches and he makes some strange movements with his mouth as if he can't quite get his voice to work. "Um," he says at last. His voice is breathy and Logan is sure he'd hate the way it makes him sound so vulnerable were he composed enough to notice. "That's beside the point."

"Is it?" Logan wants to slowly run his finger down the brunet's cheek. As it is, all he can do is look on with a dark grin as Julian rapidly loses control. His eyes go hooded and flicker down to the brunet's lips longingly.

"You won't even let me kiss you," he continues. "You have no_ idea_ how good I could make it for you. How good I'd be _to_ you. Because shit, Jules, of course I would. I'd be so much better to you than him. Sure, I'd fuck you into the mattress and keep you on edge for hours, but I'd also be the one to feed you chicken soup when you're gross and sick and punch anyone who so much as looks at you the wrong way. Fuck, Jules – I'd be perfect for you, if you'd just _let_ me."

Before he can say anything else (and there's a great deal he would like to say, some of which involves casually informing Julian that he'd like him naked on all fours with his pupils blown wide and some of which includes pushing him against a wall and not letting him go until the blond extracts verbal confirmation that Julian really does want him), a bulky form starts jogging up to them.

Logan leans back a bit, eyes cooling in the way they only do around Julian's boyfriend. Julian notices the change immediately and glances behind him, off-kilter and breathing more erratically than usual. This is probably not what he had in mind when he came to tease Logan after the game.

When he gets close, Karofsky slings an arm around Julian's shoulders and scowls. "You fucking with my boyfriend, Wright?"

"Someone should," Logan replies coolly. "From what I can tell, you're not doing a very good job."

Karofsky starts forward as if to – what, try and tackle Logan through a _fence?_ Julian grabs him, pulling him back and shooting Logan as admonishing a glare as he can, given that he's still sporting an erection the size of Everest. "C'mon, David," he mumbles, shooting one last look over his shoulder as Karofsky reluctantly allows himself to be pulled away.

"Nice job on the game, by the way," Logan calls after them. "You only lost by what, nineteen points?"

Karofsky flips him off and turns to dump a heavy arm across his boyfriend's shoulders. Julian manages not to flinch.

Logan turns, walks away, and pretends the sight doesn't cut through him like a razor.

…

"Oh my God, I didn't actually think you _had_ one!"

Julian looks like a kid at Christmas, and Logan sighs with the patience of a saint. "I told you I did. Many times."

"I know, I just – oh my God, are those leather gloves? _Hot_."

Logan rolls his eyes and yanks them. "Give me those."

Julian pouts as Logan mounts the bike. "What, you're not going to offer me a ride home?"

Logan raises an eyebrow. "Um, no."

"Why not? Don't you like me anymore?"

"I like you just fine, Jules, but I only have one helmet."

"So?"

Logan gives him a look that conveys just how much he thinks of Julian's intelligence, and rides off without a word. The next day, he brings another helmet.

.

It's Friday, so they take a long, leisurely ride after school, Julian wrapping his arms around Logan's waist tightly, whooping and grinning. It makes Logan smile.

They slow to a stop on a little cleared-out area of dirt. It borders a cliff that looks out over rooftops; nature has furnished its edge with rocks.

Very cheesy. Nice.

"You wanna stop here?" Logan asks.

"Sure," Julian answers, and takes his helmet off so he can shake his hair out.

They plop themselves down and stare out at the houses and sky for a bit without talking. "So," Logan says at last.

"So," Julian says.

"How've you been?"

"Okay. You?"

"As good as I can be when I have and don't have you."

Julian bumps their shoulders together and rests his head on Logan's. "'M sorry," he murmurs. "I suck."

"No you don't," Logan says, and runs his fingers through the soft brown hair presented to him. They sit in silence for a long time before the blond speaks again. "You've been looking tried lately."

Julian glances up at him, startled. "Oh yeah, it's just, uh – kind of stressful at my place at the moment, you know?" He gives a little laugh and Logan just looks at him, waiting. The brunet lifts his head away from his shoulder. "My parents have been…getting into lots of really intense fights lately." He clears his throat and stares straight ahead, out over the cliff. "I mean, they were never the ideal couple, but – well, I think they've been heading for divorce ever since I left for private school."

"I'm sorry. That's really shitty."

"Oh well. I'd count myself lucky if that was the worst thing that ever happened to me, you know?"

"Yeah," Logan says. "I know."

Julian reaches over and puts his hand over his friend's, squeezing tightly and holding on until he doesn't know who is giving who comfort anymore. "I've wanted you to kiss me," he says.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Ever since you offered. Even since before that, I – I wanted."

"Didn't I tell you? Didn't I say I can't kiss you while you have a boyfriend?"

"Yeah," Julian says quietly. "That's what you said."

There's a brief silence.

"Does it still hold true?"

"I don't know," Logan says, and Julian is surprised. That's not the answer he was expecting.

"Really?"

"Really. It hurts not to kiss you. It always hurt."

"I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing."

"I – what do you want me to do?"

"Kiss me."

Julian blinks. "I thought you didn't want me to kiss you."

"No, I always wanted to kiss you. I told you that. I just…always knew it was a bad idea."

Julian blinks. "And now you've changed your mind?" he asks hopefully.

"No," Logan says, but before Julian's face falls he continues. "I know I'm not supposed to, but I will if you'll let me."

"You – you're offering?"

"I'm offering."

Julian takes Logan's face in one hand and stares at him, studying the way the flecks of gold dance with the green of his irises. Logan stares back, and when Julian starts leaning in he meets him.

They kiss for the first time, and Julian feels absolutely helpless.

They stay that way for a long time without opening their mouths, just the press of warm lips against warm lips. When they pull back they stare at each other, and Julian doesn't know what he feels.

It's not that nothing's changed, it's just…there wasn't a spark. But there was – God, he doesn't know, he just doesn't _know _anymore.

Except he does. He does know. Even though he can't for the life of him describe how it felt to kiss Logan, he knows he wants to do it again – and that's also how he knows he's so beyond screwed it's not even funny.

Fuck, fuck, and fuck his life.

.

When Logan drops Julian off at his house, the brunet shakes his hair out again and gives the helmet back as he studies Logan carefully. "Why do you smoke?" he asks finally.

Logan frowns. "Why do I smoke cigarettes?"

"Yeah. Why? You didn't used to."

"Well, the last time you saw me we were in sixth grade, so."

"So what changed?"

Logan shrugs. "I did. You left. We all grew up." He pauses. "I know I shouldn't, especially in this day and age when we know how dangerous it is, but…I just can't bring myself to even try quitting. I mean, it's not like I go through a pack a day, but – but I use them more than I'd like to."

Julian looks down at his hands. "Thanks," he says quietly.

Logan nods. "Yeah. I'll see you around, Princess." It's affectionate.

He only leaves when he sees the screen door of Julian's house bang shut after him.

Julian goes up to his room immediately, closes the door, and calls David. His boyfriend sounds happy to hear him, and they talk about everything from sports to condoms (they're running out) for a very long time.

When they make to hang up, David uses that same word – "Princess," a term he invokes sometimes without really noticing. "Bye, Princess," he says, and even though it's spoken with all the affection in the world, it sounds cold coming off his lips.

…

Logan can't pinpoint the exact moment he fell in love with Julian, but he _can_ tell you exactly when he realized it.

It was just starting to get really cold, and Julian's cheeks were flushed. Logan was walking him to his next class because he could, because Karofsky was sick and Julian just…let him.

Julian turned to glance at him for a brief second – he was grinning and talking about sea turtles – and Logan just thought it.

_I love you_.

No fireworks, no epiphanies, no surprise. It felt like the most natural thing in the world.

He didn't tell Julian. He didn't tell Julian when he realized, didn't tell Julian when he walked him to the door of his classroom, didn't tell him when he saw him again later that day, the brunet waving and still grinning, always grinning. He didn't tell him then and he certainly has no plans to tell him now.

After all, it's not like it matters.

…

Julian groans as he clamps the phone between his ear and shoulder, twirling around in his chair to transfer a stack of messy papers from his bed to his desk.

"Fuck my life," he says. "Just – fuck fuck fuck it. Shit, do you even have any idea how _stressful_ it is to be inside my head right now?"

Logan's voice is a bit staticy on the other end. "Why? What are you thinking about?"

"Econ essay," Julian growls. "Fucking – torture, man. Jones's a sadist."

Logan chuckles, and it makes the brunet shift uncomfortably. Fuck Logan for making a fucking _chuckle_ sound sexy.

"Yeah, that's Jones for you."

The voice is low and gravely in its amusement, and Julian bangs his forehead against his fist and closes his eyes to try and calm down. He and David have been going through a bit of a dry spell, okay? Sue him for having some pent-up energy.

When he doesn't say anything for a bit Logan sounds vaguely concerned.

"Jules? You still with me?"

Julian doesn't exactly appreciate Logan's wording (it's not even _sexy_, it's just – familiar, God damn it), but he manages to rasp out a "Yeah, still here." Judging by Logan's silence, he hasn't done a very good job at sounding nonchalant.

"Are you turned on?" Logan asks after a brief pause. He doesn't sound offended, but he doesn't sound aroused either. That's Logan for you.

"No," Julian says pointedly, most certainly not imagining the way Logan's hands would feel cupping his ass. And God damn it, he should just hang up right now, because of _course _Logan will be able to see through that. Because Logan can always see through him, always.

Julian was such a mess after Logan talked dirty to him after the football game he had to jerk off twice just to be satisfied even after David pounded him into the mattress.

He can't hang up.

Logan is very quiet for a long moment. Then he speaks.

"I have dreams about you," he says quietly.

Julian stuffs his fist in his mouth. It's an extremely inelegant gesture and almost makes him choke, but it keeps him silent.

"They're not always the most…pure," he admits softly, and Julian lets a little moan slip out, like he just doesn't care anymore. Logan is quiet for so long Julian almost gets nervous and starts babbling that he's sorry, this is stupid, what are they doing, and then the blond talks again.

"I dreamed you were an actor," he continues in his soft tone, and it's not even like he's trying to be sexy. That's just a byproduct, and the main point is him – pouring out his fucking _soul_, or something. "You were only seventeen, like you are now, but you were really famous because…because you're so talented."

The resulting pause makes Julian extremely uncomfortable.

"You were going away for a long shoot and I was really upset, so you filmed yourself riding a dildo and gave it to me."

He doesn't even blurt it out, the bastard, just says it very quietly and evenly, like a confession. Julian bangs his forehead against the wood of his desk and puts the phone next to his head with trembling fingers.

"I watched it over and over. You looked so beautiful."

_Don't stop_,Julian wants to moan. He bites his lip and doesn't say anything.

"I've had better dreams, though," Logan continues, still so quiet, still so composed. "Do you want to hear them?"

"Yes."

Logan pauses for a brief moment. "Sometimes I dream you've been bad and I have to punish you. Those are some of my favorites. I get to imagine the way you'd look all spread out for me on your hands and knees."

Julian grips the edges of the table in a very firm way, trying desperately not to reach down and stroke himself until he comes. He wants this to last longer than that.

There's no sound from Logan's end for a long while. "I dreamed about spanking you yesterday," he says finally. "Would you like that?"

"Yes," says Julian. "_Yes._"

"You were tied to the bed with black leather and I put your little ass in front of me and spanked it raw. You were sobbing and thrashing by the end. You loved every second of it."

_I _would_ love it_, he thinks. _I would, I would beg for it._

"My favorite involved a vibrator," he continues. Julian gives up on trying to hold back any sound. "You did something bad, so," Logan continues, "I tied you to my bed and put the vibrator in you and a cock ring on you and just left you there for the rest of the day."

Julian goes absolutely quiet. "That's not fair," he says at last, voice ragged.

"You can hang up any time you want."

Julian doesn't.

"Keep talking. _Please_." His voice is ragged and rough, and when he reaches down to take himself out of his jeans he can't help but thumb his slit immediately.

"It hit against your prostate the entire time and when I came back you were just _writhing_, sobbing and begging to be fucked, for me to fuck you. You were so hard, and you just kept leaking precum and you _wouldn't stop_."

Julian moans.

"You screamed your throat sore by the time I was done with you," Logan says, and Julian grabs his dick at the base and drags his hand up slowly, squeezing. "I fucked you open, and you _let me_."

"This is so horrible," Julian groans, panting through his strokes. "Oh my God, I'm cheating on my boyfriend – _Logan_ – "

"No you're not," Logan says quietly, and it sounds like he's trying to convince himself. "You're jerking off. It's normal. You just happen to be talking to someone at the same time."

"Yeah, someone who's telling me all about how he wants to _fuck me open_."

"But I didn't. I never did. I have no idea what you'd look like sprawled out across my bed or – the hood of my car."

Julian's breath hitches. "Oh – oh my _God_, Logan, just – keep talking." His strokes speed up.

"I think about that one a lot too," Logan says. "And not just in my dreams."

Julian tilts his head back and closes his eyes and _Logan thinks about him, and not just in his dreams when he has no control over it, just –_

He yanks his jeans down roughly, yanks at his underwear until it's cradling his thighs instead. When he slips a finger into himself it feels so good he groans.

"Yes, yes, Logan, _please_."

"I wondered about that. If you'd let me do it, if you'd just lean over the hood and let me fuck you."

"I would," says Julian. "I would, Logan."

"I'd keep you pressed up against me for as long as I could, just keep you there with your beautiful, writhing body open for me and my name on your lips, all mine."

Julian's finger brushes his prostate and he cries out. "Logan – what else? What else did you think about?"

"_Everything_," Logan growls, and it makes Julian lose his composure that much more. "I've thought about doing _everything_ to you, Jules." His voice is low, really low, and Julian's hand is wet with precum now. He mewls.

"I thought about passing ice from my lips to yours, making you squirm…"

Julian pants and keens.

"I thought about giving you a massage with oil, making it last and touching you everywhere except for where you needed to be touched, making you _hate_ me, because at least that way I'd know it was real."

Julian bites his lip. He doesn't want this.

He adds another finger.

"What else?"

Logan doesn't answer, quiet for a few moments. "Are you fingering yourself?" he asks at last.

"_Yes_." Julian's voice is pathetic, just a breathy moan.

"Are you – "

"I'm pretending they're yours. God, Logan, I am."

"Yeah?"

"I th-think about it a lot. It's – mm – it makes me guilty because it's David doing it, and he's really sweet and patient ab-bout it."

Logan's silence screams, _Do you _have_ to talk about your boyfriend while we're having phone sex and you have your fingers up your ass? _There's no sound from his end, and Julian assumes this is one-sided and uses that as justification, though he knows it's an invalid excuse. God, he's just a horrible horrible person, and he's not going to complain when he goes straight to hell, not even a little bit.

"Mm…God," he whispers. "Logan."

"I want to fuck you," Logan says suddenly, and Julian's breath hitches almost painfully, even though it's nothing Logan hasn't said before. "I want to fuck his name right out of your head because it shouldn't _be_ there, Jules. Don't you want me?"

"Y-yes," Julian says.

"Don't you wish it were me? Me being gentle and rough, me pulling you into my arms?"

Julian blinks away the ridiculous sting that threatens oncoming tears.

This is not how phone sex is supposed to go. There's supposed to be dirty talk, not talk of cuddling and warmth and kissing and affection.

"Logan…" He hasn't stopped moving.

"Why is it never me, Jules?"

Julian bites his wrist and comes all over his sheets, messy and silent. He rests there for a few moments and then goes back to the phone, panting.

"I wish I could see you," Logan says before he has the chance to say anything. "Right now, I mean."

"There's Skype – "

"No. It doesn't mean anything if you're not in my bed." There's the slight sound of rustling and a voice in the background. Logan speaks again.

"I think we should keep our calls to a minimum."

He disconnects and Julian lets the phone drop, staring blankly at the mess he's made. Half of him is thinking about how much he doesn't want to clean it all up (don't think of Logan doing it, don't think of Logan cleaning _you_ up, cool towels, warm skin, don't don't _don't_). The other half wonders how the hell things got this fucked up.

Next week, Julian goes home with a stranger.

…

"Are you even legal?"

(This is how it goes.)

Julian leans back against the bar, drink in hand, and gives the guy an unimpressed look. "That's insulting."

"Well? Are you?"

Julian rolls his eyes and takes a swig. "I'm nineteen, jackass. College freshman and everything."

The man runs his eyes down Julian's body appreciatively, now that he knows he can. "You're not bad."

Julian's gaze is extremely bored. "Wow. You sure know how to flatter a guy."

The guy grins, all white teeth, and plops down to Julian's right so he can lean against the bar. "I saw you from across the room earlier," he informs Julian factually.

"I saw you too. Several times. You were dancing with three guys at once."

The guy shrugs. "Just being friendly. Hey, what's your name?"

Julian snorts. "I'm not telling _you_."

The man blinks. "Why not?"

"Why should I?"

"So I know what name to call out in bed." After he says it his eyes go wide. "Wow, okay, did I really just say that? Sorry, I didn't mean to say that, really." He sounds a bit horrified with himself.

Julian gives him a look that is slightly more amused that is oh-my-God-stop-breathing-my-air. "You don't need a name in bed," he says. "Just a condom and a sex drive to match a rabbit's."

The guy looks around carefully. "You come here with anyone?"

"No."

"My name's Alex."

Julian blinks. "Okay." They just stare at each other for a moment, and then look away at the same time.

"Um. I'm twenty-one, just so you know," says Alex. "Not that that's supposed to be a come-on – I just don't want you to think I'm a pedophile or something."

Julian takes a swig of his drink. "Why do you care about what people in a bar think?" His head tilts back to accept more of the drink and Alex watches his throat bob.

"I only care about what some people think."

Julian brings his drink down. Alex's pupils, when he looks at him, are dilated a bit. "You really are beautiful, you know," Alex says softly. "I know you think that's just a line, but it's true."

Julian gives him a sad little smile. He knows it's pathetic to go home with a guy just because he likes the way Julian looks (because there's no way he's talking about what's inside, there's just no damn way), but Logan used to call him beautiful.

"Okay."

Alex blinks. "Okay?"

Julian puts his half-empty glass on the counter and smiles at him. "Let's go to your place."

Alex looks surprised. "We really don't have to – "

"Do you want to?"

The guy looks at him for a long time. Then, quietly, he says, "Yes."

"That's that, then. Lead the way." Alex hesitates and then takes his hand, moving through the crowd so they can get to fresh air.

The walk isn't long.

.

Alex fucks like he talks, slow and deep. His strokes are measured and considerate, and Julian locks his fingers behind the older man's neck so he can lean his head against the pillow, neck bared and eyes fluttering shut. He feels the warmth of Alex's lips on his eyelid the next moment and smiles.

He treasures the drag of Alex's cock buried deep inside, feeling the sparks of electricity rise up his body and settle low in his groin like they always do when he has a dick inside him. He rolls his hips up to meet the next thrust and Alex makes a little noise, thrusting into Julian harshly, hips snapping as if he just can't help himself.

It builds and builds, slow pleasure. It takes a while, but Julian loves every second of it. And honestly?

He doesn't think about Logan.

Not once.

.

He _does _think about David.

The morning after, he thinks about David and their relationship and the way David gives Julian his jacket not just because of his possessive nature but because he gets genuinely concerned that Julian will get cold.

He thinks about how David always takes him to restaurants he knows Julian will like and the way he kisses him slow and languid in the mornings when Julian sleeps over. He thinks about how much he _likes_ it, the soft curve of David's fingers against the back of his neck, the way the athlete can't seem to stop smiling into their kisses as he gently swipes Julian's hair off his forehead, revealing a perfect platform on which to plant another kiss.

Julian is a horrible, horrible person and he deserves nothing less than the cruelest, most drawn-out non-sexy torture imaginable.

He feels nauseated.

Alex blinks on the bed, fingers slipping into the sheets that aren't as warm as they used to be. He sits up, trying to blink himself awake, and watches Julian's back as he gets dressed. "You're leaving?"

"Yup," Julian says. "Told my boyfriend I'd meet him at ten."

"You have a _boyfriend?_"

"Yeah, and he's taking me on a date soon, so please don't be offended that I'm leaving so early."

Alex is quiet for a while behind him. "Are you two…exclusive?" he asks finally.

Julian fiddles with the zipper of his jeans. It's caught. "Yup."

"Oh my God, I helped you cheat on your boyfriend. I – I just – "

"Fucked me? Too bad, it's over now." He turns around and spreads his arms. "How do I look, presentable?"

Alex's eyes roam up and down his body in confusion. He's sitting on the edge of the bed, sheets in his lap, angry – but not as angry as he thinks he should be.

Julian drops his arms and goes to sit next to him, taking his hands and pulling them into his own lap. "I'm sorry," he says. "You were really good, and I'm sorry. You must think I'm a huge, selfish slut."

Alex pulls his hands back very gently, and when he speaks, his voice is quiet. "No," he says. "I think you're either very lost, or very much in love with someone you can't have."

Julian cradles his cheek, kisses his lips, and leaves.

…

Maybe (definitely) the worst part of this whole thing is that he has all the power.

It's what he's always wanted, the ability to control his life, the ability to have other people help him get the things he wants. He wanted to be popular so he could get away with things, and now that he is, he hates it.

He hates the fact that every day seems like an opportunity, and he's always making the wrong choice – it's Logan or David, Logan or David, Logan or David, and Julian chooses David, always, but he still holds on to Logan, and it's all terrible.

It's all terrible and he's still as shitty a person as he was when he slept with Alex, and that's where things stand when the Brightman twins' party is over and everyone is gone except Logan, Julian, and the twins themselves, who've gone upstairs to sleep or make out in a closet or whatever it is those two do in their free time. Julian's gonna leave that one alone.

The patio is heated and covered by an enormous glass dome, and when he walks out onto it he's a bit tired but mostly content. Logan is soaking up the winter sun on one of the long chairs beside the pool. He's practically lying down and he only has his swim shorts on. Julian might actually drooling.

The blond hears him coming and props himself up on his elbows, peering as Julian walks forward. Julian smiles hesitantly, not sure where they stand.

Logan's answering smile grows slowly, but it's warm and genuine. And because Julian is an awful, dreadful person, he gives in to the sudden insane urge to march right up to the blond and plop himself down into his lap.

So that he's straddling his hips, specifically.

Logan's hands come up to press into his hips automatically and Julian plants gentle kisses on his eyelids when he shuts them. When he moves to worry at the side of Logan's neck he grinds down, and Logan moans. It feels like every nerve in Julian's body is going to burn itself out, and in that moment he lets all his anxiety about being seen fly to the wind.

Logan certainly doesn't seem to mind.

Julian makes a little helpless sound, shifting to get the best position, and Logan makes an impatient noise, grinding up into him and making Julian yelp. When they finally get a rhythm going Julian groans and buries his face in Logan's neck, whimpering and gasping at the particularly aggressive thrusts. They do it for so long he loses track of time.

It's never been like this with David.

"Logan…Logan…"

Their hands are tightening, everywhere, everywhere. Julian gets a hand under Logan's shorts and starts stroking him, making the blond keen and arch his back, head titled as he purrs in sightless bliss. "Like that…just like that, Jules…"

(What the hell are they doing?)

Julian rocks down sharply, and it kind of hurts because he's still trapped in his jeans, but this is _Logan_. Who the fuck is he to complain when it comes to Logan? Especially when the blond grabs the back of his head and pulls his mouth down onto his own, licking and licking until Julian moans and lets him in. He tastes like the Cherry Coke he'd been drinking at the party. Julian's nail goes down into Logan's split and he gasps, pulling away with a "Shit!" Julian grins, rocks down, and does it again. "_Shit_," Logan groans. "Jules…"

Julian's hips lose control and start going frantic. "Logan," he whines, thumb running all over the slick head of Logan's cock so that it's _very_ difficult for him to listen to what Julian has to say. "Logan, 'm – 'm gonna come – "

And just like that, Logan jerks back, pushing Julian away from him and tugging his shorts back up quickly. "No," he says shortly. "No, Jules. I can't do this." He pushes Julian off of him completely, swings his feet around so that they land on the granite that surrounds the pool, gets up, and walks away.

Julian watches with a mixture of incredulity and shame as Logan shuts the Brightman's door and disappears into the house. He stares at the spot where he'd been only moments before and suddenly makes a decision. He pulls himself out of his jeans and strokes until he comes, arching his back and pleading out Logan's name, over and over and over again.

…

Because they didn't stop to talk about what exactly the whole pool scenario meant just after it happened, they have to do it some other time. That other time happens to be in the boy's locker room after fencing practice two days later.

Logan is usually the last one to change, because he stays so late working on his moves, or whatever. So it's not difficult to find him.

Julian slams the door open, stalks forward, and, not caring that anyone could walk in and see them at any time, forces Logan against the wall with a hand on either side of his head. Logan looks very, _very_ unhappy to see him.

"What happened?" Julian growls.

"Jules – "

"Why did you leave me like that? I thought you said you wanted me."

"I do," Logan says with set teeth. "I just don't want Karofsky attached."

"Then why let me touch your _cock_ in the first place?" Julian snaps, exasperated and trying not to show his hurt.

"Because I'm _human_, okay, Julian? You should know. I'm sure you know the healthy thing is to not _cheat_ on your boyfriend, but you do. All the time. And I know I should stay away from you because you're just this – this _poison_, but I can't." His eyes are helpless, almost pleading, and Julian's hands slip to his sides. "I'm imperfect," Logan continues. "But I made myself a promise after I left you that day that I wouldn't do anything else with you while you're still with him. And I swear to God, Julian, I'm keeping that promise if it's the last thing I do."

He leans forward and Julian thinks he's going to give him one last kiss, but he just slinks away and out the door, leaving Julian with the smell of his sweat and a broken heart.

…

Julian fucks a lot of people after that.

Sometimes he's sloppy about covering his tracks and making absolutely sure David doesn't find out, and sometimes he'll feel intensely guilty and make sure to be extra careful the next time, but sometimes he just lets himself fall into bed with a pair of warm arms around him and lets himself lose control.

At first it's with a particular type – tall (always over six feet), male, and blond. Twice he finds boys who also have green eyes, and one time they're so intense he nearly drowns, gasping as he stares into their depths. They seem all too eager to drink in the sight of him.

After all, who wouldn't want to fuck him?

He doesn't sleep with those boys again, because he never sleeps with anyone besides David more than once (it doesn't seem fair to the others, somehow). He doesn't find any tall, blond boys with green eyes after that, and he decides that if he's going to do this it doesn't really matter who he does it with. In fact, the shorter they are, the darker their hair, the duller their eyes, the better.

He grows lax after that.

He goes for girls, guys – as long as there's a condom involved, he really could not care less.

He still does prefer guys, partially because Logan is a guy (don't go there don't go there don't _go _there) and partially because he loves the feeling of being dominated, of being held down and owned. He doesn't have to think or work – except it's not so much about the working, is it? Because he'll do that. He'll lay a pretty girl down on her back and devour her, and he'll do the same to any guy who asks him, but he likes the way strong hands press him into the mattress and open him up, sometimes gently, sometimes not so much (he doesn't complain), likes the way they'll take care of him.

One night he realizes he likes it because that's exactly what Logan would do, take all the worry away. After he finishes having sex he goes home and spends half the night berating himself for not realizing such an obvious thing and the other half trying not to throw up. He suppresses that particular urge, but just barely.

After that he becomes a little more specific, always yearning, searching for a tall, blond boy with light eyes and a pretty face. He'll take someone else if need be, but those nights when he's being pinned down and fucked by a boy he specifically selected and wanted are the best, just because they hurt so much.

Because no matter how soft their cheekbones or short their hair or forgiving their eyes, they look like Logan, they always look like Logan. And it's the best hurt he could imagine.

David doesn't find out.

…

Julian doesn't see him a lot.

Logan, that is. Not David. David he sees a _lot_, and he has the hickies to prove it.

The next time he sees Logan, weeks after the locker room incident, it's a coincidence. He's walking through the courtyard when he sees Logan with Kurt.

Kurt's not really a bad boy or anything – he doesn't have a clear category (another one of those kids who blurs the lines, God damn it). Julian knows he was dating Blaine for a few months, but it ended in a nasty breakup.

And now he's standing with Logan, leaning against a fence and using his lighter on Logan's cigarette. Logan grins, takes a drag, and blows the smoke _into Kurt's mouth_, which, ew. But Kurt doesn't seem to mind, because he does the same exact thing not ten seconds later.

Julian realizes he's frozen to the ground when they start kissing (don't their breaths smell just horrible?), and he starts so violently it catches Logan's attention and he looks over at him.

They look at each other for one torturingly long moment, and then Julian's eyes widen and he scrambles away, pressing his books to his chest and hunching his shoulders as he makes his way to his next class, heart pounding in his ears.

David's jacket is heavy over his shoulders.

* * *

_I guess I'll go home now_

* * *

Julian and David end as abruptly as they started, and it's not the happy ending Julian wanted, not the fairytale celebration that will clear all wrongs and let him be with Logan, finally, finally.

He's spent too many nights alone, with a stranger's arms around him, wishing he could just break free of _something_, but this isn't what he wanted, and it doesn't set him free, and it sure as hell doesn't make anyone happy.

David storms into the locker room (and why does everything awful have to happen in the locker room?), looking furious and heartbroken.

"So," he says. "You made out with Wright."

Julian blinks. "What?"

"Jason?" David says, glowering. "Yeah, he saw you two making out behind the bleachers last Thursday."

And Julian blinks, because when thinking about all the ways David could find out about this – this toxic _thing_ between Logan and him – he never considered something like this. Something that isn't even _true_.

He frowns. "He must have seen someone else. Or maybe he's making it up."

David looks incredulous. "Why the _hell_ would he make that up, Julian?" he growls.

"Maybe he likes you."

David snarls. "No guy on the team would do that. They know how happy you make me. _Made_ me."

And that – _that _hits Julian like a punch to the gut. David either doesn't notice or doesn't care, because he just plows on.

"So where were you last Thursday after school, huh?"

Julian blinks. "Cheerleading practice. We always have practice after school on Thursday. You know that."

"And isn't it interesting that the field is _right next to the bleachers?_"

Julian sighs and drags a hand over his face, eyes shut. "David, I didn't make out with Logan behind the bleachers, okay? I swear I didn't. I don't know what else you want me to say."

"Oh, _please_." The words are spit out, glistening with hurt. "You think I don't notice the way he looks at you? It's disgusting, like he thinks he _owns_ you or something."

Logan hasn't looked at him like that for a very long time.

Julian doesn't say that.

"If you've been thinking that all this time, why didn't you say anything?" he asks instead.

"Because I _wanted_ you, Julian!"

Julian blinks, and David looks like he's about to cry. The athlete closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and continues in a much smaller voice.

"I wanted you, and – and I noticed you were interested in him and I don't blame you, because he's good-looking and everything, but it still bothered me. Of course it did. But I figured bringing it up would only create tension and I didn't want to lose you, so what was the point? It was all okay, because at least you were _with_ me. But I never in a thousand years thought you'd – that you'd – _cheat_ on me." A tear rolls down his cheek and he rubs at it angrily.

"David…" Julian really has no idea what to say. This is all just so beyond fucked up, and he doesn't know what to say.

David shakes his head. "Don't. Don't, okay, just – I don't know what's going on but I don't think it involves me, so I'm just going to leave. I'm not – I'm…not really angry, just – hurt. But I still love you."

Julian can't do anything but look on with wide eyes as David shakes his head and backs up before turning around. His hand is on the door handle when he turns back to regard Julian, and they just look at each other until David speaks.

"Keep the jacket," he says. "It looks good on you."

Julian Larson is officially the most toxic infection to ever break a poor boy's heart.

* * *

_I guess I'll go home now_

* * *

Logan's pen scratches across the page, trying out lyrics and rhythms. It's the only noise in the air, the scraping and the melody (which is somewhat silent by itself), until the thickness of it all is pierced by a shrill cellphone ringtone.

Logan sighs and looks down at the device, glancing between it and his notepad a few times. Eventually, he decides to just go for it and get whatever it is over with. Without looking at the caller ID he accepts the call with a "Hello?"

"Logan, hey."

The voice belongs to Kurt, and Logan relaxes a bit. Kurt is cool. Well, except for the times when he's off again with Blaine. But they've just gotten back together again and are in the honeymoon stage, so, you know. That's disgustingly saccharine.

"Hey, what's up."

"So I'm at – " There's a crashing sound in the background as though a piece of pottery has fallen from a great height and smashed into a hundred pieces on the floor. Logan winces.

Kurt tries again.

"So I'm at a party," he says, raising his voice progressively with each word as the people around him grow annoyingly louder. "You should come."

Logan frowns and leans back against the headboard of his bed. "Where is it?" he asks cautiously.

There's a slight mumbled sound, and then Kurt says, "Parker's place. You'll like it, man. There's lots of good beer. So are you coming?"

Logan sighs and runs a hand through his hair, glancing back down at the pad in his lap. "I don't know, Kurt…"

There's a sigh from the other end and then Kurt says, "Look, Logan, the other thing is – Julian's here."

Logan's pulse skyrockets. "You think telling me Julian's there will make me _more_ likely to come?"

"No, not at all. But I just…I think you should. Or that you need to."

"What are you talking about?"

"Logan…" Kurt sighs. "He's really – upset."

Logan lets his head thunk back against the wood behind it as he stares at the ceiling, wishing they could just stop talking about this boy. "When is he not?" he asks. He doesn't mean for it to come out sounding so bitter.

"No, Logan, he – he and Karofsky just broke up. Like – _just_ broke up."

Logan's shoulders go tense. A jolt of painful electricity prickles underneath his skin and unhappy tears spring up his eyes. He takes more than a moment to respond.

"Why are you telling me this?"

His voice cracks, and Kurt hastens to redeem himself. "No, look – shit, Logan, okay. I know this isn't the ideal situation and that – well, everything sucks and there are feelings and shit but Logan, I'm worried. I'm – Julian's drunk and I'm afraid that he'll – hurt himself."

Logan swipes at the corners of his wet eyes. "So put him in a spare bedroom, give him a glass of water and some aspirin, put a bucket by his bed, and wait until he goes to sleep on his side."

"No, Logan. No. Not that kind of hurt."

Logan understands and goes still.

"I – shit, Kurt, what do you want _me_ to do about it?"

"Come over. Please. You mean more to him than anybody here."

"The last time I talked to him I practically spat in his face and walked away."

"I know, I just – can you just – try? Please?"

"Kurt…it's not going to help. He hates me."

"Logan, I'm _scared_."

And because Kurt never admits that he's scared, not ever, Logan only takes a second before sighing, picking up his car keys, and grabbing his jacket.

Their car (his mom's and his, that is) looks like it was dunked in a vat of acid and then hit by a truck, which is why he prefers riding his motorcycle. On this occasion, however, he feels that using his bike might not be the best idea. If he has to drive Julian home, there's not a good chance he'll actually stay on the bike with all that alcohol in his system.

The rusty door bangs when he pulls it shuts and he winces. One of these days he's going to get pulled over by the police for keeping his car in such poor condition. It takes two tries to get the thing started, and the keys rattle against each other as he makes his way onto the actual road.

He's only been to Parker's once, but he's pretty good at remembering directions, so it doesn't take him too long to pull up into the paved loop that occupies most of the front yard.

"Ae, Logan!"

As he gets out of the car Thad stumbles up to him, drunk and grinning like crazy.

Logan gives him an unenthusiastic wave. "Heyy…Thad."

Thad grins and starts to stagger away.

"Um. Do you have someone to take you home, man?" Logan asks.

"Yup. Gonna go find Wes. He's – designated driver, or something."

Logan sighs and shuts the car door, wincing again. He puts his hands in his pockets as he walks toward the house.

When he opens the door (no one would have heard him knock or ring the bell) he's met with one of the loudest parties he's ever attended. It makes him flinch just to look at the stereo in the corner.

He shuts the door firmly and sighs, trying to find either Kurt or Julian before somebody recognizes him and tries to recruit him for beer pong. Logan's really good at beer pong. It's kind of annoying.

He finds Kurt near the bathroom, trying to pry off the arms of a drunk girl who is grinning and clinging to him like an octopus.

"Oookay sweetheart, I think it's time for you to find your boyfriend and go home," he's saying. He catches sight of Logan and manages to break free of his fleshy prison.

"Logan! Okay, great. Look, I was keeping an eye on Julian, but then I was attacked by Miss Congeniality over here and he sort of wandered off . But he couldn't have gone far. He's probably still on this floor. Can you look for him? Please?"

Logan sighs. "Fine." He wanders away, and the girl attaches herself to Kurt again, much to his chagrin.

Julian's not involved in any of the drinking games, isn't dancing or grinding, isn't making out with anyone on a couch –

He's sitting in the corner of the room looking like he has a headache. He's got one foot up on his chair so he can rest his elbow on his knee and rub at his face, and he's leaning away from the person next to him who, by the looks of it, is flirting obnoxiously.

And probably has beer breath.

Julian looks up when Logan comes closer. His expression doesn't really change.

He's pale, and very quiet. And since Julian is normally a happy drunk – a really, _really_ happy drunk – Logan knows that this is definitely something he has to take care of.

"Julian," he says resignedly, by way of greeting.

"Hi," Julian says, and then gets up and walks away, wobbling only slightly as he pushes through the throng of dancers.

Logan blinks, sighs, and goes to follow him.

There's a little clearing at the base of the staircase where Logan stops to see Julian ascending slowly. "Julian." Logan trots up until he's on the same level as the brunet. The latter doesn't make any effort to speed up. "Jules, do you need me to take you home?"

"No."

"Are you okay?"

Julian sighs. "I'll be fine, Logan. Really. You don't have to look out for me."

He's made it to the top of the stairs and wanders into a nearby bedroom which is, thankfully, devoid of anybody having sex. When Logan trails in after him he's sitting on the edge of the bed quietly, staring at a spot on the floor in front of him. When he walks forward, the brunet puts his elbow on his knee and balances the side of his face on the tips of his fingers, eyes closed.

Logan sits down about a foot and a half away from Julian on the bed and puts his hands in his lap.

"Kurt called you, didn't he."

Logan doesn't say anything.

"He was hanging around me earlier, all…worried." He pauses. "But it's okay. I'll be fine. I'm not going to…Logan, why do you think I'd hurt myself any more than I already have?"

Logan doesn't say anything.

"Please go away," Julian begs, and his voice cracks.

Logan grabs his hand and drags it away from his face. Julian flinches, shivers, and tries to pull away. Logan doesn't let him.

"What do you want from me?" Julian asks.

"Do you want to talk?"

"_No_."

"You should talk to someone."

"And you think _you're_ the perfect candidate?"

"Who else do you have?"

"Fuck you." Julian jerks away so hard it must hurt and stomps into the middle of the room, angry and shaking. He wraps his arms around himself.

"Is this you being _human_ again, Logan?" He turns around to face the blond, glowering. "Is that just your excuse for when you fuck up? You blur the lines between all these _stupid_ social cliques, but when it comes to your relationships you just – you preach that you can't do anything half-assed, that you need all or nothing, and then you come check on me after you've effectively broken all communication between us. I mean what the _fuck_ is that about? What is this?"

"This is me making sure my best friend's okay," Logan says quietly. "Not everything gets put in a category."

Julian sinks to the bed, suddenly weak, hand over one side of his face. "How? How on Earth are you going to check if I'm okay? I'm not okay, am I? And now – so what? What are you going to do? I want you to go away and you won't, but you've already established that I'm the fucking opposite of okay. So what do you want me to do here?"

"I want you to get into your own bed in your own house, take some aspirin, drink some water, and upchuck into a trashcan if you need to. Okay? Will you let me take you home?"

Julian shakes his head vehemently. "No. No, I won't."

"Jules – "

"Look. Wes is the designated driver, or something. I'll just ask him, okay?"

"No. Not okay."

"Why not?"

"Because I want to make sure you're okay myself."

Julian is crying, but his voice is steady. "I hate you."

"I know."

"No you don't. I hate you and I'm just – I'm just really fucking sorry. Because all I can do these days is get angry, and I get angry at you because it's just the best way to get all of this stupid shit out of me – all the ways I'm angry at myself and how much I hate myself for being such an asshole."

"Julian – "

"If you tell me that's not what I am I swear to God, Logan – "

"So what's your _plan_, huh? What's your plan, Jules? You're just going to let all this anger eat you alive and wallow in misery for the rest of high school? I know you've done a lot of stupid shit, but going around loathing everything all the time isn't going to make up for _anything_. It's not going to change what you did. It's not going to make anyone forgive you."

"Are you telling this to me or yourself? Listen, Logan – my plan is just to go home, deal with all the emotional crap in the morning, by myself, and stay as far away from you as possible as long as we go to school together. You want a plan? That's my plan."

"It's a crap plan."

"I don't care what you think."

"Just giving you a reality check here, Jules. You're terrible with this kind of stuff."

"Our relationship is _septic_, Logan. You can't help but hurt me because there's nothing else for you to do when I do stupid shit. I hurt you first for some stupid fucking reason, and I'm just like this _drug_. You don't need me in your life at all, you only think you do. But I just hurt people and I do the things I do _knowing_ I'll hurt people and I'm just really fucking sorry, okay? I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Logan watches as he breaks down and chokes on his tears, shaking and no longer capable of speech. He wants to kiss him, but that would be totally counterproductive.

It takes about five minutes, and when he calms down to the point where he's just hiccupping, he manages, "He told me he loved me, Logan. No one – no one's ever fallen in love with me before."

Logan gets up. "Come on," he says. "I'll take you home."

.

Logan leads Julian upstairs carefully, sits him down on the edge of his bed, and searches for a T-shirt he can sleep him.

"I'm sorry," Julian says as Logan pulls his sock off.

"I hate you," he mumbles when Logan gets him a glass of water.

"Well…in the morning, you probably won't remember this," Logan says quietly, fluffing his pillow. "So it probably doesn't matter."

"It matters."

Julian crashes into the soft cradle of his bed and his eyelashes flutter beautifully, dark as they cast shadows across his cheeks. He hugs the sheets to himself, and Logan can't decide if he looks more like a fallen angel or a scared little boy.

"What am I, Logan?" Julian murmurs. "Am I the blight of your existence? Am I your friend?"

"I don't know," Logan says quietly, stroking a thumb down his cheekbone. "But I love you."

Julian hums and falls asleep.

* * *

_I guess I'll go home now_

* * *

Julian wakes up to a pounding headache, groans, and spends the rest of the day with his pillow over his head, kicking his feet against the mattress in an effort to dispel his discomfort as he attempts to block out all the light God ever created.

He doesn't give much thought to where he was yesterday or what he did, but after a few hours some of it comes back to him in bits and pieces. Someone's house – Parker's? – a party, alcohol, _lots_ of alcohol…

Later he remembers David dumping him (or Julian breaking them up?), a group of guys playing beer pong, the sound of cars, Thad trying to make out with Katherine…or was that Trent?

There were…stairs.

He shoves his head under his pillow and tries to fall asleep.

He swims back into acute consciousness what could be ten minutes or two hours later. He's not sure if he even fell asleep.

Logan was there. He thinks. Knowing Logan, it was probably to help him. Because that's just what Logan does.

He drifts back out again.

He comes back to the sound of Logan's voice in his ears, angry and hurt. He can't quite remember what he said, but he gets the feeling Logan wanted to drive him home, even though Wes was the designated driver. He thinks.

Or was that Kurt?

He knows there's something else, something that Logan said or did, probably, that he knows is important for him to remember. It's something he dreads remembering above all. Something about being human and – _been running through my dreams_ – a foosball table? No, that's not Logan.

An upstairs room. There was a bed. Julian really hopes they didn't have sex. He doesn't think they did.

He talked more than Logan did…probably. Sounds like him. And – tears and tears, and crying – him? Him.

_I hate you_, he said. _I'm sorry_, he said. And Logan said – _I'll take you home_, and – _you probably won't remember this_, and –

Julian remembers.

He throws up.

* * *

_I guess I'll go home._

* * *

Logan's halfway between sitting and lying down, guitar positioned awkwardly over his body as he strums, letting the snow fall on him without care.

He's lying on the lowermost of the three blocks of concrete that serve as the staircase to his miniscule porch. When he finds himself playing "Teardrops on My Guitar" he clamps his hand down on the strings punishingly and scowls. The sound of the car is sudden, unexpected, and urgent.

The shiny black whatever-it-is pulls over the gravel that serves as a poor excuse for a front lawn and ends up a few yards away from where Logan is sitting on the makeshift steps. He knows it's Julian before he opens the door.

"What did you say?"

Logan blinks and watches as Julian finishes getting out of the car quickly and shuts the door.

"What?"

"What did you say. Yesterday night." He hurries forward.

Logan frowns. "When?"

"When you were with _me_, you asshole! At my house! What did you say?"

Logan blinks again. "Um…'stop trying to have a philosophical conversation with me and go the fuck to sleep'?"

Julian makes a sound in the back of his throat that's partially why-do-I-even-talk-to-you but mostly I-am-currently-planning-how-to-most-effectively-eviscerate-you-in-your-sleep-without-being-found-out-and-arrested-for-first-degree-murder. "Right before I went to sleep. Did you – "

Logan doesn't say anything. He doesn't even blink this time.

"…did you tell me you loved me?" Julian whispers.

Logan looks at him for a moment and then smiles down at his guitar, thumbing the strings.

"_Logan! That is not a fucking answer!_"

"Yup."

"_What?_ What does that even mean?!"

"What does 'yup' mean? It's a response. It asserts validity via agreement."

Julian covers his face with his hand and counts to ten. The snow gathers in his hair and makes it sparkle, incandescent. "I hate you," he says.

"I know."

"No you don't."

Logan shrugs.

"Do you hate me too?" Julian asks.

"Yes."

"But – do you love me as well?"

Logan smiles down at his guitar. "I think you know the answer to that question."

"Can I…hear you say it?" His voice is soft.

Logan looks down at his guitar and starts strumming a familiar tune. Julian sits down next to him on the step and listens.

"My God, amazing that we got this far," Logan sings. "It's like we're chasing all those stars – who's driving shiny big black cars…" Julian hits him, and Logan cracks a grin.

_Tell me what you want to hear_

_Somethin' that was like those years_

_Sick of all the insincere_

_I'm gonna give all my secrets away._

Julian kisses him.

* * *

…

* * *

Just for the record, Julian Larson would like to say that he should be given an award for all the self-control he exercised in not going all the way with Logan until four months after he and David broke up.

That being said, now that it's actually happening – well, he might have a certain amount of patience, but he certainly has no composure. At all.

He's lost track of how many dates they've gone on, but on the one tonight Logan said, "I love you" for the first time (if you don't count when Julian was practically unconscious and probably drooling onto his pillow).

As it turns out, your super sexy boyfriend telling you he loves you for the first time in your committed relationship does things to your body and your psychological wellbeing that don't exactly go together.

He feels like he might be about to have some sort of emotional breakdown. He hopes Logan doesn't mind, because the way he's sucking hickies onto Julian's neck ensures that the brunet is not going to stop wanting him any time soon. It just brings to mind the first time Logan did this, the first time he marked Julian as physically _his_.

Julian's fingers glide out over Logan's shoulders and down his back; ever since he discovered the tattoo there, he's been obsessed with touching it. It's simple, just the Greek symbol for the capital form of the letter omega, but Julian spent ten minutes just tracing it in fascination, captivated by the sloping curve, the pointed edges.

Now, he drops his face into the crook of Logan's neck, heated and panting, half-wishing the blond was still wearing a shirt so he could pull him even closer. Logan mumbles something into his skin. He doesn't hear what it is, but he lets out a little yelp of surprise when Logan shifts to pull him into his lap more securely. They both have jeans on, but Logan doesn't make any move to take them off – just traces the outline of Julian's lips slowly and kisses him. He pulls back when he curls his fingers against Julian's cheek and finds it wet.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Julian wipes his eyes.

"Jules."

"It's just a bad – memory…thing. You know, sex and all the stupid shit it does."

Logan frowns. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Julian nips at his chin. "I'm afraid you'll think poorly of me. I mean, David did. He could tell that I liked you. And I – "

Logan looks at him steadily with his stupidly pretty green eyes.

"I cheated on him, actually. With a lot of other – people. I cheated with them the way I never cheated on him with you, and – and I pretended they were you." He fiddles with his fingers in his lap. "Do you think I'm a slut?"

"No."

Julian glances up half-heartedly, not completely convinced he's telling the truth.

"I think you were a kid."

"Did you sleep with Kurt?" Julian whispers, and it's so desperate it breaks Logan's heart.

He leans forward and kisses the brunet thoroughly, putting space between them only to ask, "You really think I could've?"

Julian makes a little lost sound, so Logan pulls away and drags his fingernails down his chest. It always makes him shudder.

"C'mon," the blond says. "Lie down."

Julian climbs off his lap and waits for Logan to right himself. When he still doesn't lie down, Logan pushes at his chest until he flops onto his back with a soft plop.

As Logan goes to straddle his waist, his thumb brushes against Julian's cheekbone, and Julian turns his head to suck a finger into his mouth, because he's just a little cocktease like that.

"Why're pants still on," he mumbles around the digit, and Logan smiles, sitting up so he can undo the button of his jeans (Julian makes an annoyed sound of protest at the removal of his finger). Once he's pulled them off he glances up at his boyfriend, who has propped himself up on his hands and is looking very annoyed indeed.

"What?" Logan asks, simpering.

"Could you go a little slower, please? I mean, sex really is hottest when mold has started to grow."

Logan pushes him onto his back again, smirking. Julian makes yet another sound of complaint which turns into a sudden gasp when Logan starts showering attention on his nipples.

Logan's never met anyone with nipples as sensitive as Julian's, and he finds it fascinating that a little sucking and a few tugs from his teeth can drive Julian crazy. The brunet arches into the touch, moaning and making short little shoves upward until Logan has to pin him down with a hand.

The other hand goes to the muscles of his stomach, tracing them over and over and over again. It dips briefly to tug at the waistline of his jeans before traveling back up.

"Do you _have_ to?" Julian whines. Logan tweaks his nipple innocently, making Julian moan. "Okay, if you let me take my jeans off I'll blow you. Deal?" Logan changes sides and swipes his thumb over the nub that's wet. Julian gasps briefly. "_Please_, Logan? It fucking hurts."

Logan leans back, unzips his boyfriend's jeans, and pulls at his clothing until he's naked. Julian flops back onto the bed and sighs in relief, arching up into his hand as he gives himself a few short tugs before remembering that he promised to get Logan off. When he props himself up Logan pushes his legs apart, trailing his fingers across his inner thighs. It makes Julian squirm, opening his legs impossibly wide, exposing himself absent-mindedly as his head falls back onto Logan's pillow, hips arching up off the mattress and into Logan's touch. Logan lowers his head until it's nestled between thigh and groin.

"Logan…"

Logan takes Julian's ass firmly into his grip, pushes the brunet's hips up, and licks across his entrance. Julian jumps. "_Shit!_"

Logan doesn't know whether that's pleasure or surprise, but it makes him grin. He lets go and moves up to kiss Julian's neck, smiling. Julian makes a small mewl (maybe protest and maybe not, but it's fucking adorable) and Logan's fingers run down his chest possessively.

"Are you into that?" he murmurs.

Julian blinks. "Am I into – into – rimming?"

Logan hums his affirmation.

"Um. _Yes_."

Logan hides a smile against a hickey he'd made earlier, sets both hands on the brunet's hips, and taps lightly. "Turn over."

Logan's briefs are kind of uncomfortable, so he strips before pushing Julian's legs farther apart and settling between them. His hands, large and warm, travel up the backs of Julian's thighs and settle on his ass, smoothing slow circles into the skin with his thumbs. Julian shivers.

The pads of Logan's fingers brush against Julian's entrance and one finger slips in easily, sliding in and out. He nips at Julian's ear. "You know I'm not always going to be this nice, right?"

Julian shudders. "Logan…"

And because Logan is Logan, he decides that now is the perfect time to draw away from Julian's ear and stick his tongue inside him instead.

Julian yelps instinctively, hips jerking forward against the mattress, his erection hardening. His fingers tighten around the pillow and he moans brokenly. "Logan – Logan, do that again, please – "

Logan withdraws and starts licking around his hole, rough hands holding him open so he can kiss and lap, watching the way Julian clenches and relaxes involuntarily, groaning into the pillow.

"God, I love you." The garbled murmur floats down to Logan and he presses a hard kiss to Julian's puckered skin before licking a thick stripe up the area between his cheeks. Julian convulses and tenses, whimpering, before relaxing and rutting against the bed. Logan stills him with a hand on his hip and the other goes back to his hole, callouses catching against the sensitive skin. Julian moans.

Logan starts opening him up in earnest then, intent on taking him apart piece by piece. Julian cries out and whimpers and fucks himself onto Logan's fingers while taking the time to rut against the mattress as well, clutching the pillow and mewling Logan's name. The first time Logan brushes against his prostate he nearly screams, begging for more.

Logan denies him, makes him wait, makes him sob for it. It's only when Julian starts squirming and riding the mattress so desperately Logan's afraid he's going to hurt himself that the blond slips in deeper, looking for that little bundle of nerves again.

Julian lets him know when he finds it. In fact, he practically sobs his relief, babbling over and over and over again (thank you thank you thank you Logan), gasping as Logan pumps down onto his prostate again and again and _doesn't stop_.

He's opened Julian up with four fingers; now he's using three, lube-slick, milking his prostate without pulling out, breathing against his neck and telling him how good he looks as he makes him writhe with pleasure.

"So good – so good – _Logan_ – "

Logan presses down with a sudden penetrating intent, and Julian actually does scream this time.

"Oh God oh _God_, Logan, I – I – Logan, I – I'm going to c-come – "

Logan removes his fingers and manhandles Julian until he's in Logan's lap, squeaking at the sudden change. Before he can even lament the loss of stimulation Logan returns with his fingers pressing hard against his prostate and a hand around his cock. Julian's eyes widen and grabs at Logan's shoulders, choking in surprise as he comes helplessly, all over Logan's chest. Logan holds him through it, a warm hand on his hip and another stroking through his damp hair.

Julian gasps and pants, fingers trembling erratically where they're curled against Logan's chest, shivering through the aftershocks of his orgasm. "Logan, Logan, I – "

"Shh."

Julian pants, lips curving up into a quick, almost surprised smile as he rests his forehead on Logan's shoulder briefly. Then he tilts his head up, asking for a kiss. Logan complies softly. Julian's eyes flutter shut with pleasure.

They make out for a while, breaking often because Julian needs time to breathe, and eventually he rests his head against Logan's shoulder again, fingers wrapped around his biceps. "So," he says quietly. "Are you finally going to fuck me?"

Logan smiles. "I know we're teenagers, Jules, but even your refractory period can't be that short."

Julian rolls his eyes. "I meant after I'm able to get it up again, dumbass. Will you?"

"Well…"

Julian whines. "_Please?_"

"No no," says Logan, "it's the terminology I'm hesitant with."

Julian pulls back and stares at him. Eventually, with a blank expression, he says, "You want to have a semantic argument with me in bed?"

Logan raises an eyebrow. "I'm just not entirely happy referring to sex as 'fucking,' that's all. It's like I'm some douche you met at a bar fifteen minutes ago or something."

"Well what do you _want_ to call it? _Lovemaking?_"

Logan hides a smile against Julian's neck and doesn't say anything.

Julian sighs. "Please?"

"Okay. If you want to."

"I do," says Julian. "I really, really do."

"Just…stay here for a bit." Logan always likes to watch Julian after he's come, when he's sweaty and warmed and rubbed raw and tender. He likes to watch the fluttering of his eyelashes as he lowers his heavy head onto Logan's shoulder and likes to feel the way his fingers clutch at Logan's shoulders. Most of all, he loves carding through that soft brown hair.

"Okay," Julian whispers, and runs his hand a few inches down Logan's chest before stopping to press his palm against the blond's torso firmly, loving the radiating warmth. Logan covers that hand briefly before lowering it to rest on Julian's knee, kissing his hair. Julian trails the tips of his fingers along Logan's thigh absently as the blond leans over to the side table and gets some tissues to wipe them off. "D'you have protection?" Julian asks distractedly.

Logan nods and bites at his throat gently. Julian lets out a little moan and pushes himself away from Logan's body abruptly, getting off the bed and onto his feet in an adorably clumsy manner.

Logan raises an eyebrow and pushes himself off the bed to wander after Julian, who has stopped in the middle of the room. He runs his hands over the brunet's hips and presses up against his back to show him exactly how much he wants him.

He bites Julian's neck. "Do you even know where to search?"

"Yes, shut up."

Logan smiles against his neck and lets him go so he can rummage through the boxes at the bottom of Logan's closet. When he straightens and turns around, triumphant with a foil package in hand, Logan presses him against the wall, making him squeak in surprise.

Logan's eyes sparkle mischievously. "You wanna do it here?"

Julian's breath stutters. "Here? Against the wall?"

"Mm." Logan's warm breath traces over his neck. "You with your feet in the air, back rucking up against the wall as I pound into you. You'd moan, wouldn't you? Moan and beg, legs tightening around my waist, completely helpless and hoping desperately that I'll give you what you want."

"Okay," Julian agrees hoarsely. The blond reaches down and traces his entrance lightly, and the brunet's hips start to jerk up into his touch helplessly. Logan holds him back with a light touch, pressing a gentle bite into his neck admonishingly. Julian whimpers.

One of Logan's fingers presses in again and Julian tosses his head to the side against the wall, eyes squeezed shut. "You don't have to do that, you know," he pants.

Logan smiles, presses a kiss to his cheek, and slips his finger out. "Would you like to do the honors?"

Julian looks down at where his boyfriend is offering him the package he'd stolen, and the corner of his lips jerk up into a smile. As he takes the package and opens it, Logan leans down to pick up a bottle of lube from the foot of his closet and pops it open.

Julian traces over Logan carefully, making sure he's hard enough for Julian to roll the condom on. They kiss and Logan gets his hands on Julian's thighs, lifting him carefully to press him against the wall. Never has Julian been so grateful for Logan's physical strength. He scrambles to get his legs around Logan's waist.

"Ready?" Logan asks, breathing wetly into the hollow of Julian's throat.

"Mm." Julian exhales against Logan's neck and runs his fingers through the back of his hair as the blond presses in carefully. Julian keens, and a bead of precum slides down from the tip of his hard-on.

"Good?" Logan asks. Julian nods, eyes squeezed shut. Logan presses up against him and bites his neck gently. When he pulls back, Julian traces over his jawline carefully and kisses him. Not accordingly to his will, Logan's hips jerk up sharply, prompting Julian to let out a muffled yelp into his mouth as he slides a little farther onto Logan. Julian shudders against him.

"Can we – can you – move now? Please?"

Logan traces over his lips, smiles, and moves.

It's more powerful than he means it to be. Julian whines. "'S good. It's good," he mumbles into Logan's shoulder in preemptive reassurance, and Logan breathes against his neck, setting up a cadence.

"How many times have I told you you're beautiful?" he asks softly, as though he actually wants a number. He drives into Julian in a series of undulations that are dangerously close to hitting his prostate. Julian mewls. It takes him a while to gather his thoughts enough to answer.

"Um," he breathes. "I – I don't know?" A bead of sweat slips down his temple, and Logan presses his open mouth against the drop.

"Not enough," he murmurs against Julian's skin, as though to himself.

"Your call."

Logan's hips snap up and Julian lets out a surprised yelp, tightening around his boyfriend and burying his face into Logan's neck.

"_Oh_…Logan, right – there, right there, please."

Logan drives up again, again, again, and Julian lets out a short sob.

"Nn – "

He's not used to this. He's familiar with the position, but the intimacy he just doesn't know how to handle. Warm tears start cleansing his cheeks, and Logan pauses for a bit, nudging at Julian's cheek until he lifts his head. Logan resumes his thrusts when he can kiss Julian's skin, adding soft moisture to mitigate the salty tears Julian can't stop producing.

The brunet blinks rapidly, uncharacteristically silent, sort of lost, sort of drowning, clutching on to Logan tightly.

"You don't know how long I've wanted this," Logan says against his cheek.

Julian leans against him heavily. "I'm sor – " he begins, and then stutters, hiccups, and has to stop temporarily when a strong thrust against his prostate shocks him silent. "I'm sorry," he manages finally, quickly, bittersweet.

"Don't be."

Julian's face heats up with pleasure and anxiety, because he can feel himself creeping toward the edge and there's no way he'll be able to let go of Logan long enough to pinch the base of his dick and stave it off.

"Julian." Logan, mind-reading freak that he is, breathes, "Let go" against his boyfriend's ear. Julian shudders, cheek rubbing against Logan's chin, making short little hybrid sob-hiccup sounds before stilling, letting Logan rub against his hard-on and pound against his prostate, and finally, with a sharp exhale, tightens his legs, arms, _everything_ against and around Logan, and lets himself fall.

Logan bites his shoulder a bit harder than he means to and follows a few thrusts later, tensing even through the aftershocks as Julian melts against him, kitten-weak.

"Hey," says Logan. "Hey, c'mon baby. Bed."

Julian lets Logan help him stagger over to the bed and collapses, curling in on himself until the blond comes back with a washcloth and makes him unfurl.

"Shh. Shh, it's okay."

Julian sighs as the cool cloth slides against his heated skin. "Thanks," he manages softly, and Logan presses his fingers to where Julian's pulse still beats frantically at the base of his throat, assuring himself that Julian is solid, real, and very much _here_.

.

Later, Logan will trace over Julian's back lazily when the brunet asks him if he's ready to go again, the pads of his fingers brushing against where he's still sensitive and open. He'll tilt his head toward the mattress (though not so much that Julian won't be able to see his face) and grin so wide he'll think his face will crack. Later, Julian will tell Logan that he loves him.

Right now, they sleep.


End file.
